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Fly Leaves
Fly Leaves
Fly Leaves
Ebook76 pages52 minutes

Fly Leaves

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Release dateNov 27, 2013
Fly Leaves

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    Book preview

    Fly Leaves - Charles Stuart Calverley

    Fly Leaves, by C. S. Calverley

    The Project Gutenberg EBook of Fly Leaves, by C. S. Calverley

    (#2 in our series by C. S. Calverley)

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    **Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**

    **eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**

    *****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****

    Title: Fly Leaves

    Author: C. S. Calverley

    Release Date: December, 2003 [EBook #4739]

    [Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]

    [This file was first posted on March 10, 2002]

    Edition: 10

    Language: English

    FLY LEAVES

    Contents:

       Morning

       Evening

       Shelter

       In the Gloaming

       The Palace

       Peace - a study

       The Arab

       Lines on Hearing the Organ

       Changed

       First Love

       Wanderers

       Sad Memories

       Companions

       Ballad

       Precious Stones

       Disaster

       Contentment

       The Schoolmaster

       Arcades Ambo

       Waiting

       Play

       Love

       Thoughts at a Railway Station

       On the Brink

       Forever

       Under the Trees

       Motherhood

       Mystery

       Flight

       On the Beach

       Lovers, and a Reflection

       The Cock and the Bull

       An Examination Paper

    MORNING.

    ‘Tis the hour when white-horsed Day

    Chases Night her mares away;

    When the Gates of Dawn (they say)

       Phœbus opes:

    And I gather that the Queen

    May be uniformly seen,

    Should the weather be serene,

       On the slopes.

    When the ploughman, as he goes

    Leathern-gaitered o’er the snows,

    From his hat and from his nose

       Knocks the ice;

    And the panes are frosted o’er,

    And the lawn is crisp and hoar,

    As has been observed before

       Once or twice.

    When arrayed in breastplate red

    Sings the robin, for his bread,

    On the elmtree that hath shed

       Every leaf;

    While, within, the frost benumbs

    The still sleepy schoolboy’s thumbs,

    And in consequence his sums

       Come to grief.

    But when breakfast-time hath come,

    And he’s crunching crust and crumb,

    He’ll no longer look a glum

       Little dunce;

    But be brisk as bees that settle

    On a summer rose’s petal:

    Wherefore, Polly, put the kettle

       On at once.

    EVENING.

    Kate! if e’er thy light foot lingers

       On the lawn, when up the fells

    Steals the Dark, and fairy fingers

       Close unseen the pimpernels:

    When, his thighs with sweetness laden,

       From the meadow comes the bee,

    And the lover and the maiden

       Stand beneath the trysting tree:-

    Lingers on, till stars unnumber’d

       Tremble in the breeze-swept tarn,

    And the bat that all day slumber’d

       Flits about the lonely barn;

    And the shapes that shrink from garish

       Noon are peopling cairn and lea;

    And thy sire is almost bearish

       If kept waiting for his tea:-

    And the screech-owl scares the peasant

       As he skirts some churchyard drear;

    And the goblins whisper pleasant

       Tales in Miss Rossetti’s ear;

    Importuning her in strangest,

       Sweetest tones to buy their fruits:-

    O be careful that thou changest,

       On returning home, thy boots.

    SHELTER.

    By the wide lake’s margin I mark’d her lie -

       The wide, weird lake where the alders sigh -

    A young fair thing, with a shy, soft eye;

       And I deem’d that her thoughts had flown

    To her home, and her brethren, and sisters dear,

    As she lay there watching the dark, deep mere,

       All motionless, all alone.

    Then I heard a noise, as of men and boys,

       And a boisterous troop drew nigh.

    Whither now will retreat those fairy feet?

       Where hide till the storm pass by?

    One glance - the wild glance of a hunted thing -

    She cast behind her; she gave one spring;

    And there follow’d a splash and a broadening ring

       On the lake where the alders sigh.

    She had gone from the ken of ungentle men!

       Yet scarce did I mourn for that;

    For I knew she was safe in her own home then,

    And, the danger past, would appear again,

       For she was a water-rat.

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